To Have and To Hold
by J. Maria
Summary: Who knew the Cynster family motto reached beyond the grave?
1. Broken Hearts and Concrete Floors

Title: To Have and To Hold  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-13  
Disclaimer: Whedon owns the girl, Stephanie Laurens owns the Cynster.  
Summary: Who knew the Cynster family motto reached beyond the grave?  
A/N: Because he had such great potential to break the hearts of the _ton_. Also, the rate that I'm absorbing these books is highly alarming, but I guess it beats twiddling my thumbs waiting for the next Dream-Hunter book.

**__**

To Have and To Hold

__

Broken Hearts and Concrete Floors

"So I'm just supposed to believe that you're here to keep all visitors out of harms way?" The brunette snapped as she brushed leaves and twigs and God knew what else out of her tangled and now knotted hair.

She glared at the man loping behind her, who shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. He looked perfectly fine, not one single hair out of place. The elegant bastard. The loose white shirt and incredibly tight breeches - yeah, not normal jeans or yoga pants like she had on, like any _sane _person would have on - were wreaking havoc with her senses. He was cute to boot. She should so not be having these thoughts.

"I'm charged with the mission to keep all on Cynster property out of harms way. No one shall ever die on these lands by foul play again," his clipped proper accent was tinged with unexpected sadness. "I swore on Devil's deathbed that I would keep them safe, just as he swore on mine to avenge my death."

Kit snapped around, completely thrown for a loop. He was dead? She groaned loudly. She had had her fill of dead people. Between working for the Council and her own little Haley Joel high school encounters of the dead kind, she had more than enough experience to last her three lifetimes. She was up to her dusty butt in dead folk, and not a one of them were on her favorites list. Who cared if he was devastatingly handsome, elegant and noble? He was off his fucking rocker if he thought that she was going to just believe his claim that he was dead and had promised the Devil anything.

Kit narrowed her eyes at him and stalked forward, mad at herself and at this too-cute-for-his-own-good guy, and definitely pissed at her slayers for sneaking off during the training mission, and at the crackhead who'd taken a pot shot at her with a rifle that had caused ghost boy here to shove her out of the way. He was a ghost? She knew better.

"You're dead, right, hon?" Kit snapped, advancing on him.

"Long dead, miss -"

"And you're honor bound to protect all Cynster lands from evil doers, right? That would make you a good little Casper then, wouldn't it?" Kit didn't stop, and walked closer to him, watching as he flushed at her nearness, and backed up a bit.

"I am honor bound, miss, to protect my family's lands."

"And you made a pact with the Devil himself -"

"Not _the_ Devil, but you would not be the first person to mistake my cousin for the fallen angel," a small, sad smile crossed his lips.

"Your cousin?" Kit paused, watching him.

"Yes, my cousin. The sixth Duke of St. Ives."

"Whatever. So you make this pact and now you're stuck in limbo here, a deserted forested area why?"

"I died here, less than a stone's throw away from where we now stand, miss."

Kit stalked up closer to him, less than a foot away. She craned her neck up at him and narrowed her eyes. He frowned at her and stared down at her uncomfortably. Kit smirked, noting his reaction to her proximity.

"If you were a ghost, how did you manage to shove me out of the way?" Kit demanded.

"My dear, you are not the first thing I've had to move before," he waved a hand to drive home her insignificance.

"You pulled a Swayze?"

"I beg your pardon?" he blinked rapidly, color rising in his cheeks. It was cute, too, dammit.

"You thought real, real hard and saved up your ectoplasm ghost thingy to prevent my injury."

"I supposed so, yes."

"So if I try and touch you, my hands'll slip right through you?"

"Of course."

Kit shoved him. Hard. Hands hit solid, male chest and big strong hands clasped tightly at the offending digits as the ghost flew backwards. He hit the ground with a thud, and pulled her with him. Kit oof'd loudly as she landed on him heavily, her elbows digging into his stomach, and her left eye thwacking hard into her right fist. Her right knee banged heavily into the ground, her left knee banging into his right one. Tears sprang up in her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

She looked down at his face, watching the play of emotions there. He obviously hadn't been expecting her to shove him, but the shock on his face told her something else. Unfortunately, she didn't have a chance to ask him, because her errant little slayers decided to be found by their watcher just then.

"Ohmigod, is that Miss Holburn and a _guy_?" Petra Kohl, 14, and a bit drunk giggled and gagged at the idea. Kit wasn't that old, dammit.

"Are they doin' it?" more repulsion squealed from Amber Jenson, 15, Yvonne Martin, 16, and her three other slayers.

"We are not doing it!" Kit spat, pushing herself up and away from the confused non-ghost beneath her.

"You were laying on top of him and groaning. Faith said -" Isabel Haverbrook, 17, and the oldest and shyest of the girls blushed brightly.

"If you must know, I was debunking a ghost. A ver-" but Kit's words were cut off by a loud squeal.

_"Humping_ a ghost! Eeww!" Terri Smythe and Rosamund Bennett - both 14 - looked completely repulsed.

"D-E-B-U-N-K-I-N-G, not _humping_. And he's not a real ghost," Kit shot him an angry look.

"I am the ghost of Bartholomew Cynster, miss, and I'll -"

Kit wheeled on him again, her finger jabbing into his chest. A welcoming and painful sensation he'd not felt in years, not since his last squabble with the twins long before his untimely demise.

"Ghosts are normally see and walk through. You, stud, are neither of those things."

"I am not a stud! I find it insulting that you dare compare me with an animal only thought of as valuable due to his ability to bed and breed. I'm no saint, but I've not been so loose with my morals."

"Miss Holburn, this non-ghost is such a freak! He doesn't even know what a stud is!" one of the girls snorted.

"I -"

"I think we better be getting back now," Kit glared at the girls and back at Bartholomew. "You're coming with us, Bart."

* * *

Three hours later, with all six slayers back in their beds, Kit finally had time to plop down ghost boy in the small training house the Council had set up for the girls. For a shell-shocked 19th century ghost, he was adapting remarkably well. Kit, however was not faring so well.

"What do you mean there's nothing on him?" Kit hissed into the cell phone, tightening her grip on the ice pack on her now black and blue eye.

"I mean, the only two Bartholomew Cynsters on record are dead. We ran the facial scan in Willow's high-tech magic powered database and got nothing. Ran the prints and got a big ole goose egg. There's nothing on this guy." Dawn Summers, her immediate supervisor and best friend, sounded as frustrated by her lack of info as Kit felt.

"So we know he's not Bartholomew Cynster?"

"I didn't say all that! The guy has a definite resemblance to the current Duke of St. Ives. He has a freakishly strong resemblance to the first Bartholomew Cynster. I'm sending you the pic now."

"Okay, so what about the second Bartholomew Cynster?" Kit huffed, pacing back and forth in the office, her eyes locked on the still profile of Bartholomew Cynster against the fireplace.

"Not applicable."

"Huh?"

"Bartholomew Cynster, born August 15th, 1987 died on December 31st, 1989 of pneumonia. He's buried in the Cynster mausoleum."

"Okay. Dawn, this guy is about that age."

"It's not him. I don't know who he is - but _that_ Bartholomew Cynster has been dead for nineteen years."

"And the other?"

"Dead for at least 200 years," Dawn sighed.

"Crap." She flung the ice pack onto the sofa, wincing when it missed and hit the floor instead.

"Did you get that pic yet?"

"Let me check."

Kit stepped back from the doorway and twirled her laptop around to face her. Cradling the phone against her shoulder, her bruised eye twitching and watering at the pressure, Kit's fingers banged against the keyboard as she pulled up her Watcher e-mail account. Ignoring Carlos', Willow's and Dawn's daily memo-spams, she clicked on the link. The phone clattered to the floor, and Dawn could be heard screeching in protest at the harsh noise in her ears. Kit couldn't hear over the roar in her ears. Her eyes skimmed over the Dawn had made notation beneath the link.

"How did you die, Bart?" Kit called out, picking up her phone.

"Kit?"

"If you must call me by a nickname, I insist you use Tolly rather than Bart."

"How'd you die, Tolly?"

"My half-brother shot me in the heart, or at least he tried. It clipped my heart -"

"Because it hit an overlarge button?" Kit stared up into his eyes, and he just looked down at her, his pain clearly in his eyes at the memory of his death.

"Yes."

"Dawn, where did you get this info?"

"In a place nobody without serious hacker skills could get to it at. And a buttload of magic. The official verdict at the time was that he was set on by highwaymen, but nowhere near that stretch of road. Someone went to lengths to keep it private."

"Then how does he know this stuff?"

"Maybe he really is the ghost of Bartholomew Cynster."

"That's great, but Dawn," Kit took a deep breath as she placed her hand on Tolly's chest. "He isn't a ghost anymore."


	2. Famous Last Words

Title: To Have and To Hold  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-13  
Disclaimer: Whedon owns the girl, Stephanie Laurens owns the Cynster.  
Summary: Who knew the Cynster family motto reached beyond the grave?  
A/N: Wow. I'm glad everyone enjoyed the first part of the story, and that there's so much love for poor Tolly. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I figured I would probably be one of the very few people to even attempt a crossover with the Cynster series, but that's just the way my fandom mind absorbs what I read/watch/listen to. It eventually works its way into fic. I'm glad that everyone is enjoying the story and is willing to take the trip with me.

**__**

To Have and To Hold

__

Famous Last Words

"That is the most vile thing I've ever been forced to watch. And I've experienced the _ton_ in full swing," Tolly grimaced at the TV screen.

"Yeah, nobody _really_ enjoys the tree-rape scene," Kit murmured distractedly, flipping through the Stephan's Compendium of Incorporeal Entities. Which really wasn't helpful in this case, except for the teensiest of paragraphs have to do with the theoretical possibility of the incorporeal becoming corporeal. It was giving her a migraine.

"This sort of filth is acceptable for women to view?" Tolly frowned at her. "You would let your young charges watch this - this vulgar display?"

"Oh my god, you are such a prude!" Kit snapped the useless book closed and glanced between him and the screen. "The girls view it as a funny training guide, although we don't sanction the use of a chainsaw in practical slaying scenarios. Or the occasional boyfriend's severed limb."

"You are positively grotesque,"

"Gee, I think you're the swellest for callin' little ole me that," Kit rolled her eyes as she grabbed for the Lauren's Who's Who in British Aristocracy of 2008. The St. Ives family was huge.

"Good God!" Tolly winced as the possessed woman on the screen jammed a pencil through another woman's ankle.

"Nope, that's all Raimi. Or possibly Tapert, I'd have to listen to the commentary again," Kit fumbled with the _Haute Ton_ 1800's version of Laurens book. She did a double take. Huh.

"This is appropriate for impressionable young minds?"

"Now it is," Kit frowned. "Okay, that is just weird."

"That this is acceptable to be viewed by infants, yes, it is!"

"Can you get your mind off of _Evil Dead _for two seconds, Tolly?" Kit rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, the girls go out and kill things like fifty times worse than that on an average school night!"

"Are there no real men left in this world? Has the world gone completely mad?"

"No, men woke up one day and realized that women are capable of more than sitting pretty and being accomplished in the feminine arts, can we focus here?"

"You'll be saying that women go to war now, aside from your little girls?' Tolly scoffed.

"Did you zone out completely during the viewing of _G.I. Jane_ last night?"

A blush crept up on his cheeks, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut. Kit smirked before pointing to the family trees in both texts. Tolly wrenched his eyes away from the gore fest that her slayers were giggling at across the room. Bruce Campbell was one of their favorites, and all of them had a little crush on the actor and on the character Ash, despite his idiocy. The girls had already banned Tolly from sitting on the sofa after he had gasped and shrieked like a little old lady during the girls viewing of _The_ _Grindhouse Presents: Planet Terror_ three nights ago.

"Why are they watching this - _entertainment_ again?" Tolly asked, looking down at where Kit was pointing.

"It's part of the training course they're taking. Zombies: Love 'Em, Leave 'Em, Hit 'Em in the Head with Blunt Instruments. We've found the girls respond better pop culture stimuli rather than dusty old instructional manuals. And oh my god, I sound like Wood. That's definitely gonna leave a taste in my mouth." Kit grimaced at the idea of turning into her former Principal.

"What are you reading?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It's your family tree. This is your family, from when you were alive," Kit pointed to his name and the death date there before jabbing her finger on the opposite, newer text. "And this is the late Duke of St. Ives family tree."

"Late?"

"The old Duke died about three years ago, so the new Duke isn't on here just yet as the Duke. He's the Marquess of Earith on this book."

"This is the family?" Awe and sadness rippled through his voice and face and Kit reached out to squeeze his hand. Everyone he knew and loved was dead, and here he was - given a new lease on life. It had to be rough.

"Yeah. Like I was saying, the old Duke, Sebastian Cynster had four siblings. Three brothers and a sister. Arthur and George, the twins, Augusta the only daughter, and Martin. Sebastian married Helen Stansion and had two sons, Sylvester and Richard. Arthur married Louisa Combely and had six children: Bartholomew, the twins Amanda and Amelia, Simon, Henrietta and Mary. George married Horatia Therwell and had two sons, Spencer and Harry. Augusta married Herbert Hunt and had one child, Edward. And Martin married Celia Hammson and they had five children: Rupert, Alasdair, Heather, Elizabeth, and Angelica."

"I do know my family history, Miss Holburn," Tolly huffed, raking a hand through his hair.

"Apparently you don't, you twit. And quit calling me Miss Holburn. I'm Kit, you're Tolly, okay?" Kit hurried on, not giving him a chance to reply. "This family tree I just read you is from the _current_ Cynster family tree. As in living and breathing in the now."

"What?" Tolly frowned at her, and snatched at the two books. His eyes skimmed over the nearly identical family trees, noting the differences.

"The only differences on here is that there never was a Charles Cynster. And this Bartholomew Cynster died before his third birthday."

"They're all here, all of them. How can this be?"

"I have no idea. Its kinda freaky to look at them side by side, though," Kit sighed, stretching back to work out the kinks in her aching back. She leaned forward, hand on her closed fists. "Tolly?"

"The younger ones, they came to my grave en masse to say goodbye to me. I was the unofficial leader, you see," A sad smile ghosted over his lips. "All of them in their nightclothes in the garden with candles, a small troupe of angels. Amanda and Amelia should have been primping for their first season, Heather as well. I had promised Simon I would take him shooting when we journeyed home for the holidays. And I promised to read to the younger girls. Tell them stories suitable for little misses barely in the schoolroom."

"You sound like you were really close."

"We had to be, or else the _ton_ would eat us alive."

"They were probably more than a little afraid of the Bar Cynster," Kit sighed. "Besides, it looks like they all married well and lived happy lives."

"Happy lives on paper does not mean they were truly happy," his voice was rough with emotion, and his jaw clenched so tightly she thought hed pop a cap. You know, if he had teeth that were even _slightly_ imperfect that they needed a cap.

"I can ask Dawn to see if she can find any images of the family. The current one, that is."

"Why?"

"They may not be the family you knew, but they're still your family, Tolly. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

He was. But he was also torn between knowing that if, by some slight chance this family that was his that was so similar to his on paper - _looked _like his old family it still wouldn't be. None of them would remember the stories he did. It would hurt more than anything he'd felt in the last 200 years.

"No. I think I'll go back to watching that film."

"I thought you hated it."

"No, I've decided that the buffoon is quite entertaining," Tolly cleared his throat and rose from his chair.

Kit was going to stop him, but Dawn decided to call her then. Sighing as she watched him all but collapse into the chair across from the girls, Kit pushed herself away from the table and snuck out into the kitchen.

"Hey, Dawnie, are you turning psychic on me?"

"No, why?"

"I was just talking about you to Tolly."

"Ah, resident Non-Ghost Boy, then you must have caught it."

"Huh?"

"The family trees that are so alike its freaky?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Then he wants to see the family photo?"

"You found one?"

"Yeah. From the picture you took on your phone of him - the similarities are more than freaky. There are a couple of differences, hair color and eye color mostly, but even after two hundred years the basic features are still so strong. I can send it your way and you guys can see for yourself."

"That's just it," Kit glanced over her shoulder. "Tolly doesn't want to see it. I'm not sure its a good idea either. If they look too much like his real family - its not like we could send him back to them, and it might be too hard to face someone who doesn't know who you are."

"So, veto to the sending of it?"

"No. Send it to me. He's a guy, he might change his mind in thirty minutes."

"There's another thing, Kit," Dawn sounded slightly guilty.

"What did you do?"

"It wasn't so much me as Andrew opened his trap about the Ghost-that-wasn't on the last meeting with the full lower Council reps - and someone kinda knows about Tolly's non-ghost status."

"Who?"

"Just the-current-Duke-of-St.-Ives," Dawn coughed the last part out and Kit had a strong urge to beat her head against the wall.

"Fuck!"

"It was just him though! No one else overheard and the only reason Andrew thought it deserved mentioning was because it happened on what's technically Cynster land, and the old Duke was so kind as to let us lease it out for the training house."

"Does this mean he's gonna come here and try and see Tolly? Because if Tolly's freaking out over pictures, I don't think he's going to like the live action version of seeing his family either."

"No! He doesn't want to meet with Tolly yet, but he does want to meet with you about the shooting."

"When?"

"Two days time."

* * *

Three hours later, after doing an impromptu bed check on her slayers, Kit found herself outside the room they'd given to Tolly. She knocked lightly on his door, and after a few minutes of no answer she twisted the knob and snuck inside. It took her a few minutes to adjust to the darkness of the room, lit only by the moonlight that pooled beneath the window on the far wall. Tolly lay sprawled on the bed, his longish brown hair draped across his eyes. He murmured something in his sleep and shivered. Kit tore her eyes away from his face and let it travel down the rest of his body. He'd stripped off the T-shirt she'd bought for him to wear after a hasty trip to closest department store, and the blankets had been tossed to the floor. All he wore were the blue plaid lounge pants that hung low on his hips and left his well-defined stomach exposed as well as the tips of his toes that peeked out from the hem of the legs.

Kit tip-toed across the room and picked up the discarded sheets to cover him back up. _Great, now I'm becoming my mom _and _Principal Wood. What's next - Giles?_ Kit sighed, carefully draping the sheets over him. She'd been about to let them go when Tolly winced in his sleep, hissing as if in pain, his hand jerking up to rub at his chest. Ki'ts brow furrowed as she crept forward.

"Tolly? Are you okay, hon?" she whispered, trying not to startle him, leaning close to him. She found herself on her back two seconds later, the air jerked from her lungs as his chest loomed above her, pinning her to the mattress.

"Miss Holburn?"

"Ow."

"What are you doing in my bed chambers?"

"Ow," Kit whimpered again, her brain not able to function properly seeing as Tolly was half naked on top of her and feeling very good. And _extremely_ happy. She was really glad that it was a dark room.

"Miss Holburn?" Tolly sounded breathless, as if he was just realizing they were sharing extremely tight quarters. He shifted above her, his grip on her arms loosening, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her arms. Her breath shuddered out of her mouth before she could help it, and she could hear him chuckling at her.

"I - I, oh crap!" Kit moaned, leaning up to kiss him senseless. Turnabout was fair play, after all.


	3. If You Go Away

Title: To Have and To Hold  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-18  
Disclaimer: Whedon owns the girl, Stephanie Laurens owns the Cynster.  
Summary: Who knew the Cynster family motto reached beyond the grave?  
A/N: Smutish. *Le sigh* In case anyone is wondering what Tolly looks like - I'm using Henry Cavill as _my _Tolly (simply because he's gorgeous). Also, I tried to write some of this after a bar crawl bachelorette party (which was more fun than I thought it would be, but did not help the creative process _at all_)  
A/N2: That Hocus Pocus Nonsense mention.

**__**

To Have and To Hold

__

If You Go Away

Kit pulled Tolly closer to her, her fingers digging into the warm muscles of his back. Tolly groaned against her mouth as she wiggled beneath him. His hands slinked their way up her arms to brace himself above her and to capture the nape of her neck. He rocked against the cradle between her thighs. He groaned again when she rocked back and coaxed his tongue to play with hers. They both shook with a tension that had been building between them since that first night in the forest, when someone had inadvertently made him human again. She felt Tolly smile against her lips as his hand slipped down to run his fingertips across her breast.

It struck her then, the realization of what she was doing. Groaning to herself, she pulled back from him, pressing her lips tightly together. Feeling awful for starting this, she gazed up at him. Tolly was panting and staring at her with a mix of confusion and guilt.

"We can't do this, Tolly."

"I - I should not have pressed myself - I had thought, which I now realize was completely -"

"No. I mean, we cannot do this here, Tolly. Or anywhere. I'm sorry."

Tolly pulled back from her, letting her slip out from under him. Kit crossed the room in less than five steps, determined to make as much space between them as possible. Her back was to him as she spoke again.

"I - this is just a bad case of cabin fever or Stockholm Syndrome or something. And you're a really good looking guy, and a nice guy, for a dead guy. And its not like I'm a virgin or anything -"

"What man would take such a gift from you and not do right by you?" Tolly demanded, barely keeping his anger tamped down. He was at her side in a heartbeat.

"A guy named Mike that I went to high school with. And he did right by me, he wore a condom and everything."

"He had French letters?"

"What?" Kit blinked up at him in the dim light, definitely sure he wasn't making any kind of real sense. "Mike and my junior year really aren't that important, Tolly."

"Are you afraid I wouldn't do right by you?" Tolly murmured, his hands skimmed over her shoulders. "I - I would ma-"

"No! Tolly, we can't be doing this. We barely know each other! And the girls are here. And I'm leaving tomorrow," Kit blurted out, her heart racing to escape at the mention of the M word. "And people don't do that anymore!"

"What?"

"Get married just because they have sex."

"I wasn't speaking of that, Kit."

"_Now_ you call me Kit? For four days of me showing you how to put on jeans, flush the toilet and use the microwave, TV, and computer, you've been Miss Holburn-ing me to death! If I'd known a kiss was all it took -"

"You'd have let me kiss you sooner?" Tolly teased. "What do you mean you're leaving?"

"I - I ah, have Council business that needs to be done in person. Audra, Tom, the couple in the other Council House up the road, and Selena one of the senior slayers are coming up in the morning to stay with you and the girls".

"May I -"

"No! Its a business meeting, Tolly. I can barely explain the six or seven technological marvels out in the sticks for you. You'd be lost in London."

"Excuse me?" Tolly frowned, surely feeling insulted and still a bit frustrated from her kiss that left a painful ache in his chest and groin. "I know London very well."

"You know 1816 London, Tolly. Not 2008 London. I - I just came in here to tell you about Audra, Tom and Selena coming up. I - I should check on the girls."

Tolly was fairly sure he'd never seen a woman flee from a room as fast as she did. She was keeping something from him. Something important. Maybe another inconsiderate bastard boyfriend who was waiting in London to make sport of her body just as that Mike character had in her youth. Tolly wasn't sure which hurt more, the frustration she left him with or the thought that she was rushing off to meet with a mystery lover. Tolly clenched his fists against the old ache in his chest.

* * *

Kit had left after scarfing down a quick breakfast of a frappuccino and a breakfast bar. After giving her three replacements the skinny on the guy staying with her and the girls and her explicit warnings not to let him out of the house at all, she'd raced to the Council car waiting for her.

Hours later, she arrived at Dawn's flat in the city, completely frantic. Dawn held the door open and frowned as Kit pushed her way in.

"What the hell are you doing here so early?" Dawn grumbled, slamming the door behind her.

"I left at the butt crack of dawn, Summers."

"I do know my name, but thanks for reminding me," Dawn chuckled, plopping down into her couch. "But I meant what are you doing in London now? You don't meet with Cynster until tomorrow."

"I cannot leave h - the girls alone that long, so his Graceship's gonna have to see me today."

Dawn frowned at her again. Kit looked down guiltily before it all clicked in her head. Dawn's eyes widened as she perked up.

"This is about him."

"Him? I don't even know this guy."

"Not _him_, stupid. This is about Tolly. What the hell happened between you two?"

"Nothing it was -"

"Something happened, Kit, cause you can't lie."

"Bull -"

"Ohmygod, you had dirty monkey sex with him!"

"What the hell is dirty monkey sex? And NO I didn't!" Kit blushed guiltily.

"You had naughty fun sex?"

"No."

"You had snuggly sex?"

"What kind of sex have _you _been having?"

"None of the above. Wall sex?"

"Dawn, I did not have sex with Tolly! I - I'm meeting with his cousin's descendents behind his back when he clearly asked me not to and I -"

"You had the smoochies!" Dawn crowed, clapping her hands excitedly. "Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna have post-Carlos-itis forever!"

"I do not have post-Carlos-itis. There was no 'me and Carlos', Summers."

"You sure as hell moped when he met up with Dani in Salem."

"He and Dani had a history that involved crazy shit. They were like kismet. And you were just as crushed when he made a new friend who was also a girl who was not us. Besides, I've hooked up with a bunch of guys since fleeing Sunnydale."

"Mike and Oscar?"

"Mike was a dumb mistake, but Oscar was a work related issue. We weren't that serious."

"And of course, there was that whole Rona crush he was harboring."

"They're happy and engaged and I wish them the best. Now what the hell were we talking about?"

"Your illicit smoochies with Tolly Cynster, former-ghost-boy."

"They were not all that illicit."

"I knew it!"

* * *

Hours and two Tylenol later, Kit found herself in the very male office of Sylvester Cynster, Duke of St. Ives. Dawn had declined to join her.

_"The dude is kinda scary. You have to credit Andrew for not buckling sooner than he did_," had been Dawn's apologetic answer.

"Miss Holburn. I could have sworn our appointment was for tomorrow," The tall black-haired man gave her Tolly's smirk.

"Okay, I know now why they called you Devil," Kit muttered.

"Beg pardon?" Cynster frowned, thrown by her mutter. "How do you know that -"

"Shut up! They do not call you Devil, do they?" Kit relaxed a bit. It was creepy, but it was a funny and ironic creepy. "Let me guess: you and your of-an-age male cousins are called Devil, Scandal, Vane, Demon, Gabriel and Lucifer? You really are the Bar Cynster reincarnated."

"I take it you stumbled across an old family ledger that noted our family's Regency branch?" Devil grated out.

"Not unless that ledger mentioned the fact that Charles Cynster killed his younger brother in an attempt to kill the original Devil."

Sylvester 'Devil' Cynster actually paled at that mention. Kit pondered that. Tolly had told her that Vane, Honoria and Devil had made a pact to never tell his parents of his brother's betrayal and evil. Apparently, Devil had wanted someone to know the truth so that no one would go searching for Charles Cynster.

"How do you know that and what do you want for that information?"

"For myself? Nothing. How did your family get hooked up in the Watcher's Council? I know you're not an active watcher."

"My maternal great-grandmother was a watcher. My mother tithes to them weekly as if they were the Catholic church asking for donations on Sunday. And quit dodging my question."

"Andrew blurted that someone took a potshot at me in the woods on Cynster land a few weeks ago?"

"Miss Holburn, you are grating on my last nerve."

"A young guy in the woods saved me. Dressed in regency era clothes, claiming to be a ghost."

"A ghost saved your life?" Devil's eyebrow twitched upwards, once again eerily reminding her of Tolly.

"It's been known to happen before. I've got a couple of friends who hunt ghosts, one of the slayers is engaged to one of them."

"Who did this ghost claim to be?"

"Bartholomew Cynster. Tolly. And don't give me that look, cause I didn't buy it at first either."

"What made you a believer?"

"You."

"Beg pardon?"

"My Tolly looks like your lighter haired cousin. And you practically told me right now that no one but you and maybe your father knew about Charles Cynster's fate."

"What do you plan to do with this information?"

Kit frowned at him. Was he on crack? He was as good as Watcher's Council alumni and he thought she was planning on blackmailing him? Over a two hundred year old secret?

"Nothing. I just wanted to know how badly youd freak if I told you your long dead cousin is alive and running around your ancestral property."

* * *

A few hours later, Kit was laid out in a Council car. After meeting the second in command New!Vane - aka Spencer Cynster - and flashing them a couple of camera phone pictures of her Tolly at them, they'd both bullied her into letting them come meet him. She didn't make any promises, because Tolly might hate her for her interfering.

She had just fallen asleep when the car pulled to a stop in front of the house. She felt like she was floating, her dream of pretty ball gowns and a crowded house party. A handsome young man bowing over her and asking her for a place on her dance card. An ache in her chest as she whirled too fast in his arms.

Warmth surrounded her as her arms hooked behind a sturdy set of shoulders. A feather-light kiss was pressed to her forehead, the tip of her nose, and firmer on her lips. Kit groaned, her eyes fluttering open. Tolly - the man from her dreams - was kissing her, his tongue slipping into her mouth coaxing hers to join his. In that moment Kit forgot why she was protesting last night, memories of the dance still in her heart. Kit gave herself over to Tolly, and ignored his own protests as she pulled him down to the bed he'd set her on. Her hips arched upwards, seeking the welcome friction.

"Kit, you seemed changed much by your trip."

"Tolly, I liked your mouth better when you're not talking."

And then he put his mouth, hands and body to much better use. All night long.


	4. There's a Fine, Fine Line

Title: To Have and To Hold  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-18  
Disclaimer: Whedon owns the girl, Stephanie Laurens owns the Cynster.  
Summary: Who knew the Cynster family motto reached beyond the grave?  
A/N: I know, another huge gap between postings. I'm trying, honest.

**__**

To Have and To Hold

__

There's a Fine, Fine Line

It took her a few minutes to figure out where exactly she was when the glare of the sun cut across her eyes. She was not in the Council car anymore, and she was definitely naked. The bed dipped behind her, and a heavy arm draped across her stomach. Guilt and nerves spiked across Kit's mind as she felt the most tender of kisses pressed to the nape of her neck.

"Tolly, how did I get in here?" Kit murmured, shivering as Tolly's hand inched its way up her body, cupping her gently.

"Your driver knocked at the door and requested assistance in bringing you inside. You were proving quite difficult to wake," Tolly grinned against her shoulder.

"Don't tell me one of the slayers carried me inside," she groaned, ducking her head in shame.

"No, I did," Tolly's low chuckle against her ear sent another spasm of shivers down her spine. "Then I recalled a tale I'd once told my little sisters about Sleeping Beauty."

"Huh?" The man was wreaking havoc on her mind and body. The fact that he could manage to talk about some Disney story at the same time his hands were dipping lower on her stomach was mind-boggling.

"That Sleeping Beauty needed simply a kiss to be woken from her sleep."

"Tolly," Kit's breath hitched as he eased her legs apart with one of his own.

"Kit! We've got - oh, my!" Selena gasped as she quickly backed out of the room.

"Shit! Tolly what the _hell _are we doing?" Kit groaned, gently pulling away from him. She'd slept with Tolly and she was fairly certain he'd hate her guts in about twenty minutes, give or take.

"I thought it was fairly obvious."

"Kit, you might want to get into gear in there, because two way expensive cars just pulled up with the hottest guys I've ever seen, and they're looking for you," Selena's voice was muffled by the door.

"Men? Good looking men are looking for you?" Tolly's brow raised at her as she scrambled for her panties and tee. Kit's eyes flicked over to him. He lounged on the bed, the sheet barely covering his hips, and his eyes were half-hooded. He looked relaxed and slightly dangerous. And completely sexy.

"Actually, they look a little bit like not-ghost-boy," Selena offered through the doorway.

"Kit, whom did you meet with in London?" Tolly jerked upright, his mouth flattening in a foreboding line.

"Selena, leave me to get dressed and stall the Council members, will you?" Kit shouted at the door, struggling to jerk her jeans up. "I had shoes in here at one time."

"Miss Holburn, whom did you meet with in London?" Tolly bit out, his hand snaking for his own pants.

"I told you, a prominent Council member," Kit's eyes snagged on his chest, just below his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Pray, madam, do not change the subject," Tolly's tone went utterly icy as he started to jerk his shirt on.

"Tolly, you have a pink scar on your chest that you did not have before I left for London," Kit snapped back. With one shoe on, she limped forward to inspect his chest. Before she could put her hand on him though, he jerked back from her as if she was a new plague carrier and tugged his t-shirt on.

"It doesn't signify."

"Huh?"

"Who are these men, Kit?" Tenderness shone in his eyes for one second as he reached out to her.

"Kit! The Duke is ready to bust down the door!" Selena yelled just as the door was thrown open to reveal Devil and Vane Cynster.

"Bloody hell," Vane gave a low whistle as Tolly drew back from Kit.

"My God, he looks just like Uncle Arthur," Devil muttered.

"I didn't have a choice, Tolly," Kit murmured as Tolly's eyes went deadly cold.

* * *

It was uncanny, how similar they looked like his cousins. Which made perfect sense. They were the descendants of Devil, himself. And it tore at him, a raw ache in his heart that Kit - no, _Miss Holburn_ - had gone against his wishes. She sat in the chair by the window, her eyes locked on the view beyond the glass panes.

"You are not my cousins, so I am unsure as to why you have rushed out here to observe me like a Vauxhall spectacle," Tolly's jaw tightened and his gut clenched. He wished for nothing more than to rush forward and embrace his cousins, but they _weren't_ his cousins. They were strangers who remembered an infantile Tolly who'd died before his third year was out.

"You are of my blood. Our family has always stuck together," Devil replied.

"Technically, I'm not."

"Beg pardon?" Vane leaned forward, his eyes locked on Tolly's.

"You are descendants of the sixth Duke of St. Ives. Similar trunk, far different branch of the family tree. Produce some of my younger brother Simon's heirs, and then perhaps you'd have been closer, Miss Holburn." Tolly's voice was ice cold and the look he sent her wasn't any warmer.

"I didn't want to produce _these_ ones, but I didn't have a choice, Tolly. Oh, I'm sorry, _Mr. Cynster_," Kit pushed herself up from the chair. "If you'll excuse me, your Grace, Mr. Cynster, I'll leave you to explain your plans to Tolly. The Council is paying me to do a job after all."

Kit barely spared him a glance as she fled the room. Tolly winced at the hurt in her eyes. He shouldn't be feeling like an utter ass. She had betrayed his trust by notifying his family.

"She truly had no choice," Devil spoke not long after the door closed behind her.

"I specifically asked her not to make contact with you. I am not your lost cousin, and you owe nothing to me -"

"Not necessarily true, Tolly," Vane leaned back in his chair. "We really wouldn't be alive if not for you. So we do owe you that."

"And she did not make first contact. Andrew, one of the newer watchers, mentioned the shooting here on the property," Devil's lips kicked up in a brief smile. "Miss Holburn did her damnedest to keep you under wraps."

"Not enough, I fear," Tolly murmured, his hand rubbing at the faint ache in his breastbone.

* * *

Within an hour, and with a lot of pacing done by Kit, Tolly had gathered his meager belongings and was easing into the luxury sports car that had brought the elder/younger (depending on how you looked at it) Cynsters to the house. Tolly hugged each of her slayers goodbye, and gave her a stiff nod in parting. Kit had a hard time swallowing the grief of that cut, but it wasn't anything less than she'd been expecting, to be honest.

"You'll not be here much longer, Miss Holburn?" Devil questioned quietly.

"Another week and a half, then the girls go home for a two week break and we reconvene at the Slayer school," Kit answered automatically, willing her eyes to stay off of Tolly. The question hit her. "Why?"

"It's just that if there was someone taking shots at you, it would be best if you were not here much longer. Poaching still does happen you know," but there was that look in his eyes that said it was probably more than poachers.

"Right, night poachers in a wood that nearly no one but the stupid and the dead visit," Kit muttered. Her eyes landed on Tolly again, and her brow lowered at him rubbing at his chest. "Your Grace?"

"Yes?"

"Tolly has a new scar on his chest. He's been rubbing at it all day," Kit bit her lip, not sure if she wanted to interfere with his life anymore. "I think he got hurt and is being all stupidly macho about it. Can you please see that it gets looked at?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

* * *

That night, two people separated by miles dreamt of a ball nearly two hundred years past. A dashing young rogue-in-the-making twirled a sickly wallflower around a crowded ballroom, their eyes sparkling in what-could-have-been. Neither knowing that both of them would be dead within a year's time. They danced on with the confidence of youth, and the false sense of living forever. Both woke to an aching heart and uneasy mind.


	5. One Good Reason

Title: To Have and To Hold  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-18  
Disclaimer: Whedon owns the girl, Stephanie Laurens owns the Cynster.  
Summary: Who knew the Cynster family motto reached beyond the grave?  
A/N: Remember when I said I sometimes live with the stories in my head long before they get committed to file? Apparently, that happened here, because I swore I wrote this down somewhere before. Hmm. I'm going crazier faster than I thought. Yay! *eye roll*

**__**

To Have and To Hold

__

One Good Reason

It had had been two long weeks since Devil had brought him to the house in London. Two agonizing weeks of being utterly directionless. He'd met his 'cousins' - all of them bearing a striking resemblance to the Scandal, Demon, Gabriel and Lucifer he'd grown up with. Devil had wisely postponed all of his meetings with his aunts, uncles, and younger cousins. The elder cousins had found it hard enough to be face to face with him, and they knew the full extent of his 'miraculous' recovery.

He winced at the throbbing ache that had been in his chest for days now - _had _been there since the day he'd left the slayers and Kit. Devil had pestered him once about it, but Tolly had lied and pretended he knew nothing about what Kit had told him. Nevertheless, Devil had scheduled an appointment with the family physician for him. Tolly sat at the window of Devil's study and felt utterly at loss in this new world he was in.

How right had she been, his Kit? He'd wanted to come here, with her, but this London was nothing like _his_ London. Those streets he could have navigated blindfolded. Half the buildings of his time had been destroyed by time, war, and necessity. And the technology that he had only begun to grasp back with her and the girls, seemed simplistic to all the accoutrements Devil had in his private study.

"Honestly, Sylvester, you'd think I was some sort of interloper rather than your beloved auntie," a voice cried out from the hall. Tolly felt his chest tighten. He _knew_ that voice. God, how he'd missed it.

"Aunt Louisa," Devil was saying, trying desperately to keep the woman who would have been Tolly's mother from his study. "I told the aunts that I had a visitor and that I didn't wish to be disturbed for a reason."

"Which is why I am here to see that you haven't installed a mistress in the house."

Had Tolly not been panicking, he would have laughed at that. This Devil - much as Tolly's own cousin had - seemed to excel in avoiding the parson's noose, but that hadn't quelled his attraction of beautiful women.

"A dear friend is staying with me, Aunt Louisa, not a mistress, so you can report that back to Maman," Devil sighed.

But Mother - no, _Louisa_ Cynster was always trickier than she looked. She'd managed to slip around Devil's body and into his study. She blinked owlishly at Tolly for a moment, and his heart ached. It was one thing to find out that your cousins and siblings had been reborn centuries later, it was another thing entirely to see the woman who should have been _your_ mother in this life looking exactly as she had in the old one.

"Tolly?" Louisa gasped out, tears clouding her eyes.

* * *

Kit wasn't faring much better, but at least she was out of the house that she'd shared with Tolly for that too brief time. She'd moped through that last week and a half because she worried about him. Tolly had been all secretive about that new scar, and the girls had swore up and down that he'd only watched during their fencing lessons. Selena hadn't let him join in because she knew the girls were still too raw in controlling their strength.

She sat stiffly behind her desk at the London HQ on a conference call with Carlos Trejo who was in Salem, and Rona Thompson in New York. Other than Dawn, she'd worked most closely with the Latino watcher and African-American slayer within the Council. They'd all trained in Cleveland under Robin Wood and Faith Lehane, who'd been a couple at the time.

That hadn't lasted long, and they'd been reassigned. Rona'd been sent to New York to work under Xander Harris, who'd just come back from Africa - Wood had taken his place there. Carlos had practically begged to go back to Salem and his girlfriend Dani, and luckily, Kennedy Fletcher, one of the original Potentials had been assigned there after her own bad break-up with Willow Rosenberg. Faith and Kit had been stuck in Cleveland together, until Kit was transferred to England nearly six months ago.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rona's voice snapped Kit out of her thoughts about Tolly.

"Damn, Holburn, I thought Dawn was just exaggerating like always, but you are beyond bad," Carlos chipped in.

"Fuck you," Kit said half-heartedly.

"This over a ghost? Are you forgetting rule number 17?" Rona's eyes bored through the video line and into her.

"Doesn't really work with the alive undead," Kit muttered, sinking deeper into her chair.

"Repeat it back to me, girl," Rona snapped.

"Don't fall or fornicate with the dead or undead, because then you're no better than Buffy," Kit huffed.

That had been Rona's twist on the rule. She really had not liked the blonde slayer, whom she blamed for splitting up the Original Potentials after Sunnydale imploded. Rona, Vi and Kennedy had been the originals, along with Molly, Chloe, and Amanda - who had all died at the hands of the First evil. Rona hadn't minded separating from Kennedy, but she and Vi had been tight. Rona often said that the red-headed slayer was the only reason she had walked out of the hellmouth.

"Anyway, that doesn't signify," Kit continued. "He was dead, then miraculously came back to life."

"After two hundred years of being a ghost," Carlos said slowly. "That doesn't normally happen with _ghosts_ at all."

"And why the hell do you sound like a Jane Austen movie?" Rona frowned at her.

"Hey, what did I miss?" Dawn chirped from behind her.

"Kit's gone crazy over a boy. We're petrified."

"Did I harp on you two when you went bat-shit over Dani and Oscar?" Kit huffed.

"Yes," Carlos narrowed his eyes at her.

"You slept with Oscar," Rona glared at her.

"Before you met him! When I was on vacation after Wood and Faith imploded!"

"Plus, Kit's got a past life with this guy," Dawn said out of the blue.

"I've got a what now?"

* * *

Days later, and Louisa was still looking at him as if he'd descended from the heavens. Devil and Vane had explained the situation fully with her. Both Louisa's and Devil's mother had been supporting the council privately, as their mothers had before them. Louisa knew Tolly wasn't her son. And yet she went along with Devil, Vane, and Martin, her husband's plan. Bartholomew Cynster - the one he would have matched in age but who had died as a child - would be 'found'. The childhood illness that had claimed his young life would be forgotten in favor of a kidnapping.

Tolly was to have been abducted and only just now found his way back into the family fold. He had no idea how the younger siblings would take this. But he would not inherit whatever had been young Tolly's and now his younger brother Simon's birthright. He did not want that - that had been what had caused Charles to loose what few wits he'd possessed in the first place.

"I'm not him," Tolly said vehemently.

"I know that," Louisa smiled sadly. "I buried my son."

"Then, pray, madam, please do not look at me as if I am him returned."

"How can I not?" Louisa sighed. "I see him in you. Its uncanny."

"I did not wish for this," Tolly looked away then, aware too deeply of the connection they _did_ share. He'd lost his mother - she had lost her son.

"Sometimes, what we do not dare wish for is exactly what we need, Tolly," Louisa smiled at him again. "He would have looked just like you. But your road will not be an easy one, I can see it in your face, son."

"I am not your son," Tolly all but sobbed it out. He would remain composed if it killed him.

"You are now. I dreamt of her - of who I must have been back then, and do you know what she told me, Tolly?"

"What?"

"Take care of my boy, as I am taking care of yours," Louisa's eyes shone with tears, but she kept on smiling.

* * *

Kit stared at the portrait for two days, her hand pressed to her chest to stop it from beating so very frantically. Lady Katharine Hollis had died when she was seventeen, a year after her come-out in 1816. She died, presumably, of heart failure. She'd survived a heart murmur at birth, but had her health had been significantly with a bout of Scarlet Fever as a young teen that left her immune system damaged. She'd died shortly after recovering from the flu. And she'd been hopelessly in love with Bartholomew Cynster.

"How did you find all this out?" Kit said woodenly the day after she'd stopped staring at the portrait.

"I kept thinking 'why Kit' after you left here," Dawn shrugged, looking guilty. "I thought maybe that it was because the family might be in some danger. Tolly had been the one to save them previously, you said. So I thought maybe I could figure out why he was needed this time."

"And you thought that you needed to compare my face to portraits from the early 1800's why?" Kit frowned.

"Because the family's solid. There's no Charles," Dawn shrugged.

She'd broken down and told _only_ Dawn the truth about Tolly's death. That his brother had killed him in a case of mistaken identity. Charles had meant to kill _Devil_ and gain the title as he and his dead mother considered it _his_ right as eldest Cynster male.

"So then I thought, what if it's all about Kit?" Dawn finished.

"It can't be all about me," she scoffed. And then Dawn had handed her that damn diary.

_Oh, Diary, the most wonderful thing has come to pass! Mr. Cynster requested a spot on my dance card this evening at Lady T's ball! Mama says that he is a second son, and to not pin my hopes on a son that will surely not inherit, but Mama is much mistaken if she believes I care at all!_

For I know I am not as comely as many of the girls in the Marriage mart, and my health has kept me much in the company of wallflowers and matrons. My dance card is rarely filled, and oh, it was heaven in his arms! Oh, to have such a gentleman as he to choose me as his bride - see then, if I care a fig for what he stands to inherit.

That had been that hopeful night she'd dreamed of - that ballroom dance and Tolly being courteous. Kit read the next stained entry, her feelings confirmed.

__

What a fool was I! The other girls clucked behind their fans - Lady Katharine Hollis, the only dances she receives are because her Mama bemoans her daughter's fate to the gentlemens mothers. I should have realized that it was only pretend. Why would a handsome gentleman choose such a creature as me to wed? I am sickly, my dowry and beauty are paltry compared to the beauties who would flock to such a man as Bartholomew Cynster.

Kit's heart broke for the girl. Tolly might have danced with Katharine because her mother asked his mother, but he _had_ enjoyed it. His heart had quickened, and he had wanted _more_. The final entry left Kit with tears in her eyes.

__

I shall never wed. No gentleman would have me, and I would have none of them. Mama says I cannot go out in mourning simply because a young man who danced with me once has died, so I cannot wear the black muslin gowns my heart wishes I could. But how I wish now, that it had been I to go in his stead. Mama would be appalled at such words, but - I can feel it coming upon me. Perhaps Mr. Cynster would be so kind as to direct my way to heaven when it comes. . .

"She died a month and seven days after Tolly did," Dawn said quietly.

"I had a heart murmur when I was a baby," Kit breathed.

"I think you were _her_ Kit."

"God," Kit let her head hit the table as tears for Katharine, Tolly, and little Bartholomew streaked their way down her cheeks.

* * *

She dreamt of a younger version of herself with much longer and lighter hair sitting at an old fashioned desk, a dark leather book opened in front of her. The girl dipped her pen in an inkwell and scribbled out a few lines. Kit tip-toed forward, reading over her shoulder.

__

"I fear things will not end well for them, Diary. He is weakening -"

Her head jerked up and eyes so familiar bored into Kit's. Pain and fear swam in those eyes and Kit's stomach churned.

_"You have to get him to a doctor_ now,_ Kit!"_

"Do you mean Tolly? He didn't listen to me before - back when he _was_ speaking to me!" she cried.

_"He will surely die and you will lose him again this night, Katharine Holburn, if you do not go to him immediately!"_ Katharine's eyes watered.

"What are you talking about?"

_"The bullet - Charles's curse on him - his mother's family placed a curse on Tolly's soul for being the cause of Charles's downfall. That is why the Bartholomew Cynster of your age died! That is why you never met him and my Tolly was needed. You overcame our illness, but Tolly cannot overcome that bullet - not alone. You _must_ go to him, Kit."_

* * *

Kit jerked up in her bed, sweat coating her skin. Her eyes flew to the clock on the nightstand. It was only ten-thirty. She'd gone to bed after dinner, exhausted by everything she'd learned that day. She shoved the covers back and raced into her clothes. She ran down the stairs and out the doors without a word to anyone. Her feet slapped against the pavement as she run blindly. She didn't head to Devil Cynster's house - Katharine had given her the knowledge of her path to Tolly - he wasn't there.

She ran the twelve blocks to Louisa and Martin Cynster's home - and she was not a big runner. She would feel it in the morning, but right now she felt nothing but the frantic beat of her heart. The entrance to the townhouse was blocked by a short iron fence that she clamored over, despite the protests of passers-bys. She was about to run up the steps when the door opened, and Tolly emerged with an older woman that could have been his mother.

Kits heart stopped at the sight of his paleness. Bags were under his eyes, and sweat dotted his brow. His steps faltered a bit, and his eyes seemed to roll back. She darted forward and pulled his arm around her shoulders. His breathing was ragged and his mother gave a small cry.

"Katharine!" Kit's eyes jerked up to the woman's face as Tolly registered who was supporting him.

"Mrs. Cynster, we need to get him to the hospital fast. He's been shot," Kit panted, the run and Tolly's weight catching up with her. "I'm Kit Holburn -"

"Devil told me that Tolly saved you in the woods. I have a car waiting. We were going to meet my husband and children for dinner."

"You might want to call Devil, give him the heads up."


End file.
